Aliens & Things
by CelfwrDderwydd
Summary: Ripley and the Colonial Marines discover that the Aliens aren't the only nightmares crawling around Hadley's Hope... CHAPTERS 1 & 2 REVISED.
1. The Road to Hell

Disclaimer: The author does not own Aliens or The Thing.

**Aliens & Things**

by

CelfwrDderwydd

**Chapter One: The Road to Hell**

"_We found something in the ice . . . _

_We found something, we found something . . . _

_We found something . . . (sobbing)"_

_-Last transmission, U.S. Outpost 31_

Gorman grunted softly from his seat in the APC as he watched the video feed from the cameras of the dropship. The mist and rain of the atmosphere clouded and obscured the ground below. He narrowed his eyes as the towers of the atmosphere processor slowly faded into view. Next to him, Ripley watched the screens as well. She felt a pit in her stomach as a black plume of smoke gradually faded into their view. She swallowed as the colony complex seemed to melt out of the mist and rain.

There were several holes in the colony, smoke pouring out of them. Some sections of the structure were visibly collapsed. The pit in her stomach became a twisted knot as they surveyed the damage. Gorman frowned as they flew over the complex.

"Ferro, give me a slow circle of the complex," he softly ordered.

"_Roger,"_ the pilot replied. As the dropship circled the complex, they could see a hint of flame still flickering in some places. Gorman sighed as he glanced at the different monitors.

"Some exterior damage, most seems to be internal. Could be explosives' damage. Several fires still burning, some already out. Storm shutters are sealed, no visible activity," Gorman was slow and methodical, like he was making a report. Ripley's eyes flew over the monitors, trying to see everything at once.

"Some of the exterior lights are still on, so they still have power," she observed. Gorman nodded vaguely as he looked at a screen that displayed the landing field.

"Okay, Ferro, set us down in the landing grid. Immediate dust-off on my clear, then stay on station," he ordered. He looked at Apone, who nodded.

"All right, gear up, people!" he ordered as they flew down.

The dropship came down through the lashing rain and whipping winds, the lights of the dropship illuminating the gloom. The engines screamed as it came in and landed, the ramp dropping with a clank. The APC took off from the ramp and roared across the field as the dropship took off behind it. Inside, the Marines tensed as they readied their weapons, not sure what they would find.

"Okay, stay frosty, people!" Apone ordered. The APC rumbled to a halt and the door slid open. "Move it out!" Apone ordered as the Marines poured out of the armored personnel carrier. Weapons poised, they knelt behind barrels and crates as they looked at the complex.

There was even more damage than they had thought. A tractor sat nearby. The cab was a mess of wires and shattered glass. It looked like someone had taken an ax to it. Apone brought up a pair of binoculars and surveyed the area. Nothing moved, except for the rain and a few swaying wires and cables that dangled from the sides of the complex. Still, they were cautious, moving from one position of cover to another, as careful as if their every move was being watched. Drake and Vasquez covered their approach with their smartguns, watching for any movement.

The large doors into the colony were partly ajar, the access panel next to the door smashed hopelessly beyond repair. Apone groaned as he looked at the destroyed panel, then the doors. One of them was dented, badly. That was odd enough, given that they were made of carbon-alloy steel almost two inches thick, but the strangest thing, was it looked as if the door had been dented from the _inside_. There was a bloodstain on the doors, and not a small one, either.

Most of the blood that had been on the ground had been washed away by the rain, but enough remained to indicate that something bizarre, and horrible had happened there. Apone motioned for the other Marines to move up. "Hicks, Hudson, help me with this damn door." The three men grunted as they pulled.

The undented door slid open enough for them to squeeze through. The inside of the lock was even more of a mess. There was even more blood on the grating on the floor, a trail of it leading back to the twin doors into the colony interior. The doors were both open, as if in invitation. Vasquez squeezed through the main doors and took point, her smartgun at the ready.

The corridors were a mess. Rain was pouring through a gaping hole in the ceiling. A red warning light was blinking on and off. It was eerily quiet, the only sounds were the pattering of the rain and the echoes of their boots on the floors.

"_Second team, move inside. Hicks, Drake, take the upper level,_" Gorman ordered over the radio. They could hear the footsteps of the other Marines behind them as they entered the colony. Apone frowned as he looked around.

"Sir, are you seeing this?" Apone asked.

"_We are indeed, Sergeant,"_ Gorman replied. Apone sighed as he looked at the damage.

"Looks like small-arms fire. Some explosives damage . . ."

"What do you think, Sarge? Seismic survey charges?" Hudson asked quietly. Apone groaned as he looked at a particularly large hole.

"Not this one. Looks like something smashed in the roof. This was done from the outside," Apone observed. Vasquez tilted her smartgun up at the hole, careful and watchful as they passed underneath the gaping hole. More red warning lights blinked at intervals in the halls, broken wiring hung down here and there, some popping and sparking, but otherwise, the halls were silent.

"_Hicks, Hudson, use your motion trackers,"_ Gorman ordered. Hudson brought up the device and watched the display carefully.

"_Nothing. Not a damn thing,"_ Hicks muttered over the radio.

"_We need to cover more ground. Split up and search in teams of two,"_ Gorman ordered. Apone nodded and motioned for Hudson and Vasquez to take one hall.

XXX

Back inside the APC, Ripley, Gorman, Burke and Bishop watched the monitors as the Marines made their sweep. The upper level was the same as the lower one, if not worse.

Some of the hallways looked like they had been scorched by fire. The area Hicks and Drake were passing through looked like there had been a _very_ big fire there. The whole hall was blackened, from the floor to the ceiling, and everything in between. They glanced around, trying to watch everything at once. Ripley's stomach was doing flip-flops. It was worse than she could have imagined. Her throat was tight and a distinctive cold feeling was settling in her neck and shoulders. A feeling of growing dread was slowly gripping her.

"_Sir, we've got a body,"_ said Drake. All eyes were riveted to Drake's monitor. They watched as Hicks knelt next to the body of a man, sitting with his back against a wall. The cause of his death was both obvious, and gruesome.

A handgun was still in his hand, the wall behind him was splattered with blood, fragments of bone and pieces of brain tissue. Hicks sighed as he stood, looking around. The room was a mess. Desks and tables had been overturned, papers strewn all over and the triple-paned safety-glass windows were shattered. One almost-shattered window looked like _something_ had tried to get inside, bending a large hole in the steel shutters in the process. There were marks all around the hole in the glass and carved into the metal around it. Hicks looked at the gaping hole and the marks. The light from his shoulder lamp clearly showed the marks in the metal.

"_Jeez, what the hell did this?"_ Hicks wondered aloud. Ripley was almost trembling as she looked at what were obviously claw-marks. Her breathing was uneven as she looked at another one of the monitors, the one displaying the video from Vasquez' headset. She and Hudson had entered a room that was as charred and burned as the hallway had been. Absolutely everything was burned beyond recognition. The wind whistled through the gap in the shutters of the window as Hudson explored the room.

"_Man, this place is burned to hell,"_ he murmured. Vasquez looked around the room. She looked down, and noticed something was underneath an overturned table. She hooked the barrel of her smartgun under it and flipped it over. Whatever the small creature had been, like the rest of the room, it was burned beyond all recognition.

Before she could focus further on it, Hudson grunted as he shoved a door open with his boot. He groaned at his discovery. _"We've got another body."_ All eyes were on Hudson's screen as he looked into a bathroom. A man was laying on the floor, a dried pool of blood underneath him. His right arm was missing from the shoulder down. Judging by the dangling muscles and tendons, it looked like it had been torn off. It looked as if the man had tried to brace his feet against the door, in order to keep the door shut. Gorman gave a tired groan at this latest discovery.

"All right, continue on," he ordered. Hudson and Vasquez left the burned-out room and continued their search of the halls. Ripley was breathing hard, fighting against her rising sense of panic. Burke noticed and softly patted her shoulder.

"You okay?" he asked. She took a deep breath and nodded.

"Yeah," she sighed. No, she wasn't okay. The feelings of dread were growing every minute.

"_What the hell's this?"_ said Drake's voice. She looked up, and her blood froze as she saw what was on the screen.

Hicks was knelt next to a hole in the floor. This one, though, was different.

"_I'm seeing this, all right. Somebody must've bagged one of Ripley's bad guys here,"_ said the Corporal as he fingered the edge of the hole melted in the grating. Her eyes were wide as she looked at Burke.

"Acid for blood," he replied, looking as floored as she did, but not nearly as terrified.

"_If you like that, you're gonna love this,"_ came Hudson's voice. They looked and stared at the huge hole in the floor of the corridor.

XXX

The corridor was decimated. The walls, the ceiling, the floor, all of it was, quite simply _gone_. Hudson looked down the hole in the floor, Apone and Vasquez next to him. The hole went down, not just to the next level, but the one below that, and the one below that. The gaping hole had burned all the way down to the absolute lowest level of the colony, stopped only by water down in the maintenance level, the pipes above the water another casualty. Hudson's jaw hung open as he looked at the incredible damage. The hole was so wide, it would have taken an Olympic athlete to to jump it. The edges of the metal looked melted, but not in the same way the hole Hicks had seen. Apone grunted as he looked at the metal.

"Thermite," he observed. Hudson and Vasquez stared at him. The Sergeant glanced up at the hole in the roof. "Looks like somebody had one hell of a big firecracker," he mused. He frowned as he tapped his radio. "Second squad, what's your status?" he asked.

"_Just finished our sweep. Nobody's home,"_ Hicks replied. Apone sighed as Hudson spit down the hole.

"Sir, this place is dead as a doornail. Whatever happened here, we missed it."

"_Late for the party again,"_ Drake quipped over the radio. Gorman sighed over the radio.

"_All right. The area's secured. Let's go in and see what their computer can tell us. First team, head for Operations. Hudson, see if you can get their CPU online. Hicks, meet me at the south lock. We're coming in. Gorman out."_ Hudson scoffed.

"Out is right," quipped the comm-tech. "I feel safer already."

"_Pendejo_," Vasquez muttered.

XXX

Gorman and the others had to stoop to get under what remained of the makeshift barricade the colonists had made as they entered the facility. The devastation of the colony looked far worse in person than it did on the monitors of the APC. It was chilly inside the colony complex, largely due to the massive damage to the wiring, as well as the destroyed windows and massive holes in walls and ceilings. The smell of smoke was omnipresent, even in areas that had not been touched by flame, it seemed. Ripley couldn't help a shiver as she nervously glanced around at the room.

Scorch marks were everywhere, large gouges could be seen in the metal of walls and ceilings. Broken pipes and pieces of metal were strewn all over the place. She carefully stepped around a large bloodstain on one of the walls and part of the floor. The metallic scent of blood, while faint, was unmistakeable.

"Well, looks like the Company can write this one off," Frost murmured to himself as he surveyed the damage. Gorman groaned softly as he took it all in.

"Sir." They looked up as Drake approached. The smartgunner stepped over some debris as he approached. "They sealed off this wing at both ends. Welded the doors, and they blocked the stairs with heavy equipment." Gorman nodded as he looked around.

"Any more bodies?" asked the Lieutenant. Drake nodded.

"Yeah. One poor bastard got caught in a pressure door. Cut in half. The other . . . I couldn't tell. There were pieces all over the place." Ripley couldn't help a shiver. Whether it was from the cold, or the growing sense of horror and dread, she didn't know. Drake frowned as he looked at a broken piece of pipe. "The funny thing is; it looked like they were trying to reopen the barricade, and in a big hurry." This made Gorman stop. He fixed Drake with a quizzical look. Drake showed them the other barricade.

Sure enough, it looked like someone had been hastily trying to cut through it from the _inside_. There was even evidence that whomever did it had been so desperate, they had touched the still-hot metal, and burned themselves. Regardless of what had happened, whomever had been cutting had succeeded in making an opening large enough for them to squeeze through.

"Must've been a last stand," Crowe muttered as he drew in a breath to squeeze through the narrow opening.

"Yeah, looks that way," Hicks replied quietly. Gorman groaned as he they approached the doors to the Medical wing.

"We should be able to cut through the Med labs to Operations. Drake, you take point," Gorman ordered.

The labs were no better off than the rest of the colony. Desks, cabinets and tables were overturned or smashed, papers and expensive medical instruments were strewn all around. There were plenty more bloodstains and scorch marks. Some of the lights flickered sporadically, while a few panels glowed with reserve power. Ripley pulled her jacket tighter around her as they entered the lab. She almost jumped out of her skin when Burke brushed her arm. He shot her an apologetic look as they entered the Med labs.

"We've got another body here," Drake's voice called out. Gorman gave a soft sighed as he approached.

The gathered Marines stared, dumbfounded by the charred corpse. Gorman motioned for Ripley to come closer and take a look.

"Is this one of those creatures?" he asked. Ripley suppressed a shiver as she came forward. As she stopped, she stared, unable to comprehend what she was seeing. Gorman frowned at her silence. "Well?" She slowly shook her head, not at all recognizing what they were looking at.

"I don't know," she replied softly.

The body was charred completely black, as were the walls and floor around it. Several cans of kerosene sat nearby, empty. Whatever it was, it clearly wasn't a human being. The face, or what was left of it, looked partially human, but twisted and distorted, the jaw not one piece, but two mandibles. What could be discerned of the eyes and brow looked human enough, caught in a rictus of agony. The thin, twisted arms were clutched tightly against its chest, the fingers elongated and malformed. The torso was thin and twisted, but some of the ribs were exposed, as if they had broken free. The ends of the ribs glistened white, almost like large teeth. The legs were equally twisted and misshapen. Gorman sighed as he glanced at the empty cans of kerosene.

"Whatever it was, somebody burned it up in a big hurry," Gorman mused.

"Jeez, what the hell happened here?" Frost asked no one in particular. Gorman motioned for them to keep moving.

As they approached a doorway, Ripley stopped dead in her tracks, frozen in shock at the sight that greeted her.

Seven tubes were filled with liquid, and illuminated by a violet light. Drifting within each tube was a monster she remembered all too well. They looked like skeletal hands with too many fingers, attached to a long tail, and sheathed in thin, translucent beige skin. Hicks came up behind her and stared at the monsters in the stasis tubes.

"Lieutenant," he called softly. When there was no answer, he called louder. "Gorman."

"What is it?" Gorman asked as he came over. Hicks simply nodded to the nightmares in the tubes. Gorman stared as he entered the lab, Burke following. Ripley stayed well-away from the tubes.

Burke glanced at her.

"Are those the same ones?" he asked. Ripley nodded. The Company rep moved closer, trying to get a better look at Ripley's boogeyman.

"Careful, Burke," she warned. The words had hardly left her mouth when the creature inside lunged against the glass, slamming its body against its prison with surprising force for such a small creature. Burke jumped back, startled. A translucent tube on the underside of the creature stroked the glass. Hicks chuckled softly.

"Looks like he likes you," the Corporal barely suppressed a snicker. Gorman was inspecting the rest of the tubes while Bishop was reading a torn, blood-stained paper.

"Hmm, this is interesting," said the synthetic, catching everyone's attention. "This report refers to these creatures as 'Ovomorphs'. It also keeps referencing something called a 'Polymorph'." Bishop flipped through the rest of the battered document. "I can't read the rest of it. It's too damaged." Gorman frowned as he looked at the paper.

"Anything else?" Bishop shook his head.

"No. Until we can access their mainframe, all we have are any written reports we might find." Gorman huffed as he looked around the battered lab.

"Yeah, right . . ." Everyone jumped at the sound of Hicks' motion tracker beeping. The four Marines spun, pulse-rifles at the ready as Hicks held the motion tracker, pointing it at the barricade. The beeping grew louder.

"Behind us," confirmed the Corporal. Frost, Crowe and Drake covered the doorway they had just entered. Ripley frowned as he looked over his shoulder.

"One of us?" she asked, a slight tremble to her voice. Hicks shook his head. Motion trackers weren't what one would call 'precision instruments'. They detected movement, be it friendly or not. Gorman tapped his headset.

"Apone, where are your people? Anybody in D-Block?"

"_Negative. We're all in Operations, as ordered. You need us there?"_ Apone replied.

"Not yet. We'll keep you posted." With that, he looked at Drake. "Let's go." Drake nodded tersely as he swung his smartgun into position and took point. He and Hicks headed off towards the direction of the movement, while Crowe and Frost brought up the rear.

Hicks led them back into the labyrinthian steel corridors of the complex. He glanced down at the tiny screen of the motion tracker. The source of the signal was getting closer.

"Which way?" Drake asked, his gaze focused on the corridor ahead of them.

"It's heading right for us," Hicks replied as they neared a junction. They could hear footsteps echoing in the halls, bouncing around and merging with their own.

Suddenly, a form lunged around the corner. On instinct, Drake took aim, fingers on the trigger. Hick lunged with his pulse-rifle and shoved Drake's smartgun muzzle up as it discharged in a violent roar. The metal above the head of the shocked colonist exploded in a shower of sparks and molten metal as he turned and dashed back the way he came.

"Fuck!" they heard the voice echo. Ripley dashed after him.

"Hey, wait!" she yelled after them.

"Good one, Drake!" Hicks yelled as he dashed after Ripley and the colonist, the others close behind. Gorman tapped his radio as he ran.

"Apone! The signal is a surviving colonist! Tell your people to watch their targets!" Gorman yelled into his radio as he ran after the others.

"_Roger,"_ replied the Sergeant. Drake was lagging behind as he tried to keep up with the others, burdened by the heavy smartgun.

Ripley was about to round a corner when a jet of flame stopped her. Hicks grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back in the nick of time.

"Stay the hell away from me!" yelled the colonist, accompanied by another blast of flame. The others caught up and huddled near the corner as the flames died down.

"You don't understand! We're here to help!" Ripley pleaded. The reply was another burst of fire.

"Bullshit! You're infected, just like the rest! Come any closer and I'll _barbeque_ your ass!" screamed the colonist. Drake frowned as he hefted his smartgun, ready to defend his squad.

"You want me to take care of this, sir?" Drake asked. Ripley looked at Hicks.

"He's scared. I wouldn't blame him. If he survived, he must know what went on." She looked at Gorman, who frowned deeply. He looked at Drake and shook his head. Instead, he tapped his radio.

"Apone, the colonist is hostile. He seems to be having some sort of psychotic episode. But he may be our only clue what happened here. I want you to try to get behind him and disarm him."

" _. . . Roger,"_ replied the Sergeant, clearly surprised. Ripley carefully peeked around the corner, ready to pull her head back.

The colonist was dressed in a bulky green jacket and gray cargo pants, his brown hair was messy and hung partly in his eyes. He was holding a makeshift flamethrower, made from a large oiling can for big machinery, with a blowtorch taped to it. Crude, but very very effective. His gloved hands were trembling as he aimed at the corner where they were hiding. They were surprised when Hicks stepped out from the corner, careful to keep a distance, his arms raised.

"Take it easy. We're not gonna hurt you," Hicks assured, even as the young man trained the flamethrower on him. Now that Hicks saw him, it was clear as day that not only was he frightened, but he was young. He'd bet a month's pay this kid wasn't over twenty. Hicks knelt and placed his pulse-rifle on the floor and stepped away from it. "See? We're not gonna hurt you. Put the weapon down, okay?" The young colonist backed up, his aim unsteady, but still threatening.

"I'm not falling for you Things' tricks! Back off!" Hicks noticed Apone, Hudson, Wierzbowski and Vasquez carefully approaching the colonist from behind. Hicks kept his face neutral as he took a cautious step forward.

"We're Marines, we're here to help." The young man frowned, his eyes darting to his side. Hicks paled as he glanced back. The next few seconds were pure chaos.

The colonist whirled, finger on the trigger as Hudson tackled him, sending them both to the floor as the flamethrower doused the wall in flaming fuel. Apone grabbed the colonist's right arm, trying to wrestle the torch out of his hand as Wierzbowski grabbed his legs.

"Get off me!" the colonist yelled as he struggled with surprising strength. Hudson was fighting a losing battle to keep a hold of the colonist's left arm. "Get away from me!" the colonist yelled as he managed to shove Hudson away enough for him to grab a short length of pipe from under his jacket. A pipe with a fuse. Hicks lunged and grabbed his wrist before the colonist could bring the pipe-bomb in contact with the flames. Frost jumped in, as did Crowe. Even with Marines literally piled on top of him, the young colonist still struggled like a madman. "Get off me, you _Imitations_!" he shrieked.

Hudson grabbed his pulse-rifle and brought the butt down on the colonist's head. He bashed him several more times, succeeding in knocking him out. The Marines untangled themselves, Apone standing up, the torch clutched firmly in his hands.

"Dietrich," panted the Sergeant. The medic approached and knelt, feeling the colonist's neck.

"He's alive," she confirmed. Hicks was holding the bomb in his hand. He looked at the home-made explosive and sighed. Hudson opened the colonist's jacket and whistled at the canisters of fuel and other pipe-bombs attached to his belt.

"Jesus Christ. This guy's a walking bomb," Apone breathed.

"Talk about firepower," Hudson joked. Hicks knelt and removed one the canisters from the unconscious colonist's belt. They noticed they were the same as the one loaded into the makeshift flamethrower. Hicks smelled it.

"Kerosene," he stated. Apone grunted as he took the sight in.

"Counting the one in this, that makes eight," observed the Sergeant, looking at the rough, homemade weapon. Ripley, Gorman, Burke and Bishop came up and looked at the unconscious young man.

His face was pretty dirty. He looked like he hadn't shaved, or even washed in weeks. His clothes were as dirty as he was. His jacket and cargo pants were stained with dirt and who-knows-what else. Even his brown leather work boots and gloves were dirty. A thin trail of blood ran from the side of his head, where Hudson had hit him. Gorman sighed as he stood with his hands on his hips.

"Well, let's get him back to Med lab," Gorman ordered. They nodded as they removed the weaponry and picked him up. Hicks and Hudson had his arms, Frost and Crowe had his legs. Gorman rubbed his face and sighed. "We're off to a great start," he muttered as they headed back to the Med lab.

"Boy, this guy's whack-a-doo," commented the comm-tech. Hicks grunted as he adjusted his grip.

"Yeah, no fooling," replied the Corporal.

"What do you think? Terrorist attack?" Crowe asked as they carried the colonist back to the labs. Frost grunted as he shook his head.

"You got me, man," he replied.

They were almost back at the labs when Hudson's motion tracker beeped.

"Great, now what?" Gorman sighed. Hicks carefully peeked around the corner, pulse-rifle held tightly. He gave a soft gasp and darted around the corner.

"Ripley!" he called. She found the Corporal kneeling on the grating, his shoulder lamp shining between some pipes and conduits. Ripley knelt and looked in. She stopped as she stared at the tiny, cowering form hidden there.

It was a little girl. She was filthy, her blonde hair matted and messy, her face stained by dirt and grime. Her hands held the plastic head of a doll tightly, as if it was a holy relic. She looked like a rabbit or a deer, transfixed and frightened by the bright light. As Hicks moved, the girl flinched, her eyes blinking. Ripley smiled as best she could, reaching for the tiny waif, beckoning as Hicks motioned for the others to join them.

"Come on out," Ripley said soothingly. "Nothing to be afraid of here." The girl drew back to avoid Ripley's fingers. With a grunt, Hicks reached for her with longer arms. "It's all right. Come on out," Ripley soothed. The girl edged away, but Hicks fingers almost reached her. The girl's eyes darted to the approaching forms of the other Marines. They grew wide when she saw the unconscious colonist they carried. Hicks' fingers were barely a half-inch from her when she violently smacked his hand with her doll head. The Corporal swiftly removed his hand as she scuttled under the grating. "Don't let her go!" Ripley yelled as she quickly stood.

"Where'd she go?" Hudson asked as they frantically shined their flashlights all around, trying to find her.

"Here! There she is!" said Bishop, illuminating the small form under the grating. The girl crawled frantically.

"Keep back! Don't scare her!" Ripley commanded.

"Hurry and grab her! We're gonna lose her!" Apone huffed. They were just in time to see the tiny feet wriggle into a vent.

"Damn!" Ripley swore as she dove after her. Ripley grunted with effort as she crawled through the narrow duct. The girl slammed a metal grate ahead of Ripley, trying to latch it. Ripley was fast enough to lunge and shove it open before the latch could click home. With a groan of pain, Ripley looked at where she was.

She was inside one of the colony ventilation systems pressure-relief bubbles. She was not alone, either. The girl was backed against the far wall of the roughly oval chamber. Surrounding them were piles of blankets and pillows, mixed with a collection of toys, stuffed animals, dolls, fake jewelry, books and food packets. The girl had scavenged it all from around the colony, everything she needed. Ripley glanced up at the large fan that was circulating air above their heads. It was more of a nest, she felt. Not unlike a pack rat's.

Ripley looked at the small girl, who was trembling and clearly frightened. Ripley noticed she was inching towards another covered duct. The girl lunged for the duct. Ripley managed to get her arms around the girl in a bear hug as she tired to escape. The girl struggled and fought, kicking and jerking in a desperate attempt to escape. Ripley's grip held. As the child struggled, Ripley saw something in the girl's hand.

Something other than her doll.

Ripley tightened her hold as much as she dared when she recognized the flare the girl was trying to ignite. A weapon, no doubt. "It's okay, it's okay. It's over. You're going to be all right now. Easy. Easy, easy. Shh," Ripley soothed, trying to calm the girl. The girl tired, and at last went limp in Ripley's arms, almost catatonic, and allowed herself to be rocked back and forth. Ripley carefully pulled the flare from the girl's grip. The girl's stare was traumatized and vacant, her eyes open but not really seeing. Ripely rocked the girl back and forth, whispering soft, soothing things to her.

As she whispered, she let her gaze roam the chamber until it fell on something laying on top of a pile of goods. It was a framed photo of the girl. So different, but unmistakable. The girl in the photo was dressed up in clean clothes and smiling, a blue ribbon in her combed and washed hair, her skin a clean, healthy pink. Beneath the picture, were letters, embossed in gold:

**Second-Grade Citizenship Award**

**Rebecca Jorden**

Ripley looked at the girl in her arms, who looked so tiny and so frail.

"Ripley? Ripley, you okay in there?" Hicks' voice echoed down the duct.

"Yes. Yes, we're fine. We're both fine. We're coming out, now," Ripley called back.

XXX

Back in Operations, the Marines were gathered around Hudson as he sat at a console. A wire-frame map of the complex was boldly displayed on the screen. Hudson was chewing some gum as he moved the map up and down, turning the three-dimensional image to and fro, his face creased in a frown as he concentrated.

"What're you scanning for?" Gorman asked as he approached. Burke glanced at him.

"PDTs," replied the Company rep. At the confused look on the Lieutenant's face, he clarified. "Personal Data Transmitters. Every colonist had one surgically implanted." Hudson blew a bubble of gum, which popped loudly.

"Except for the kid and the looney, zip." Gorman looked at Hudson as the comm-tech rotated and zoomed in on one section of the map, then zoomed back out.

"Anything on what happened?" asked the Lieutenant. Hudson scoffed at this.

"They got some damn good encryption here. Personnel logs and A/V files are all locked. I've been trying to hack it, but it's gonna take a while. And maybe some dynamite." Gorman looked at Burke.

"You know any of the access codes?" Burke shook his head.

"The colonists made them and put them in. We had no reason to think they'd have locked down their database. If we did, we'd have brought a Master Key Code," Burke replied. Gorman sighed and shook his head. Hicks puffed some smoke from where he sat off to the side. He glanced at the unconscious colonist, sitting in a chair with his hands tied behind his back and to the chair.

"You think he may know any of the codes?" Hicks wondered aloud. Drake scoffed, his lip curled in a sneer.

"Yeah, I doubt he's gonna be too hard-up to help us, man," replied the private.

They looked up as Dietrich walked up to the group, the colonist's jacket in hand as she explored the pockets. They heard a metallic jingle as she pulled out a large set of keys on a keyring. She set the keys on the console and pulled out the next item: a pocket soldering gun. A standard multi-tool followed. Lastly came two cards. One was a security access card, and the other was a colony I.D. Card.

"Sullivan, Matthew J. Maintenance," she read aloud, handing the card to Gorman. "Doesn't look like much of a terrorist to me." Gorman frowned as he looked at the picture, then at the unconscious colonist, Matthew. Indeed, he didn't look like a terrorist, or even much of a threat, come to that. Without his jacket, they could see how thin he was. Just like the girl. It still amazed them how much of a struggle came from such a scrawny figure. As they watched, he groaned, his head lolling to one side. They tensed as he finally came around.

He winced as his eyes fluttered open. He coughed as he lifted his head. His face still had the roundness of youth, but it was quickly being sculpted into a more chiseled look. They were surprised by his eyes. The left eye was a mahogany brown, but his right eye was pale, icy-blue.

Dietrich moved closer to examine him, and was surprised when he shied away from her. Not in an aggressive way, but like a frightened animal. He was trembling so bad, his tremors shook the metal frame of the chair loud enough for the Marines to hear. "Hey, it's all right. We're not gonna hurt you," Dietrich soothed as she reached out. No sooner did her fingers brush him, than he sharply jerked away, his tremors intensifying. He was shaking from the top of his head to his work boots. He was terrified. The Marines watched, bewildered as he continued to tremble.

"Let's leave him alone. We're just gonna give him a heart-attack like this," said Hicks as he puffed some more smoke. They reluctantly returned to the schematics, leaving the young colonist to tremble in the chair. None of it made any sense. Both he, and the girl were clearly terrified of them. Even if Matthew was a terrorist, it made no sense why he'd be trembling in fear at the slightest touch. The girl was little better. She hadn't spoken a word since they found her. Ripley was currently cleaning her up, sitting at one of the desks.

As they looked over the schematics, Gorman looked at Apone.

"What do you think, Sergeant?" Gorman asked. Apone sighed softly.

"Don't think the kid is a terrorist, and I doubt he killed everyone else by himself. Even if he did, where are the bodies?" Gorman frowned in thought. Apone's eyes never left the schematic as he spoke. "Something real bad went down here. Those kids were just tryin' to survive." Apone spoke as a man who'd see such things before. Gorman glanced at Matthew over his shoulder.

"Let's keep him tied up, just the same. Terrorist or not, he could still cause trouble," Gorman muttered, turning his attention back to the schematics.

Ripley approached, the girl, Rebecca, standing next to her. Ripley still held the damp washcloth in her hand that she had used to clean the girl's face. She looked down at her little charge.

"What's his name?" Ripley asked. The girl hugged her doll.

"Matt," she replied. At the sound of the soft voice, Matt looked up, giving a tired groan that sounded both tired, and pained.

"Hey, Newt," he softly muttered, his head drooping once more. Ripley looked at the young man for a moment before walking forward.

"So, you know her?" Ripley asked. As she drew close, she felt a hand on her arm.

"Careful," warned Vasquez. Ripley glanced at the smartgunner. "He freaked out when Dietrich touched him." Ripley nodded her head, stopping about an arm-length from him. Ripely looked at Newt, who was staying back about six feet or so, her look uncertain.

"Is he a friend?" Ripley asked. Newt hugged her doll, not answering. She seemed to study Matt, as if looking for something. The girl was silent for a few moments.

"Matt," she spoke softly, almost in a whisper. ". . . Are you a Thing?" Ripley blinked and frowned at the strange question. Matt coughed and raised his head, a purple-black bruise adorning his left temple.

"I . . .don't think so, but . . . I can't be sure," he replied, pain and fatigue clear in his voice.

By this time, Gorman and the other Marines had noticed Matt talking, and had gathered around. Gorman stepped up, lightly pushing Ripley out of the way.

"So, Matt, was it? Would you mind telling us just what, exactly happened here?" Gorman asked, trying to be intimidating. Matt looked up at him, tired, but unfazed.

"Hell paid us a visit," he replied. His voice and tone were tired, but the simple reply was ominous. Ripley couldn't help a shiver, deep down at that. Gorman frowned deeper.

"Look, we're here to help, but we can't do that if you're not willing to cooperate. Now, if you please, where are the other colonists?" Gorman asked with a more authoritative tone.

"Dead. All of them." Matt looked at Newt, who looked at him, still not sure of him. He didn't blame her. "Except for Newt and me." Gorman frowned at this.

"Come on, we're wasting our time," he huffed as they went back to the console, trying to think of something else. Ripley knelt in front of Matt and gently applied the damp washcloth to his face. He trembled at her touch, but not as bad as he had earlier. She tried her best to smile warmly as she cleaned the dirt and blood from his face.

"You and Newt are both very brave to get through all this," said Ripley as she carefully cleaned around the bruise. Ripley was still trying to piece things together in her head. It was clear as day the Aliens had invaded the colony, but there was something else. Something just as horrible.

"Matt, what happened to Jed?" Newt asked. Ripley glanced at Newt, then back to Matt. The look on his face was agonized, eyes shining with tears.

". . . I don't know," Matt replied, his voice small and tight.

As she was about to ask, Hudson's voice rang out.

"Yo! Looky-looky! Found 'em!" the comm-tech announced. Hicks stared at the screen as he puffed some smoke from his cigarette.

"Looks like a damn town meeting," mused the Corporal. At this, Matt drew in a breath, sitting up in his chair.

"Let me guess: The Processing Station, Sub-Level Three, right smack under the south cooling towers," Matt said coldly from where he sat. The Marines stared at him, wide-eyed at his exact placement. Gorman marched up and stood over him.

"And how would you know that?" the Lieutenant asked hotly. Matt was stone-faced as he held Gorman's gaze.

"Because I was part of a group stupid enough to go in there and try to rescue people," Matt replied. Gorman's right eye twitched with irritation. He looked back at Hudson.

"Can you tell if they're alive?" he asked. The comm-tech looked at the screen.

"No," replied Hudson. Gorman looked at Matt and gave a thin smile.

"Well, we're going to find out. Let's saddle up, Apone," Gorman ordered, watching Matt's face for any change. He was disappointed. There was no fear, no anger, no worry. Only resignation.

"Okay, people! You heard the man! They don't pay us by the hour! Let's move it!" Apone ordered as the Marines readied to leave. Matt just gave a tired groan and shook his head.

"Mass suicide, anyone?" he asked himself. Vasquez watched Matt for a moment before looking at Gorman.

"What do we do with him?" she asked, nodding her head towards him. Gorman frowned for a moment.

"We'll take him with us," replied the Lieutenant, catching Matt's attention. Gorman gave a thin, mirthless smile at the young engineer. "We can keep a better eye on him that way. Move out!" Matt sighed as Hicks and Hudson untied his hands from the chair, but not from each other, walking him between them like prison guards around a prisoner. Matt didn't fight or resist in any way.

As they reached the doors to the outside, where the APC was parked, somebody draped his jacket over his shoulders. He blinked absently as he looked up at Ripley, who smiled gently. For a brief moment, he smiled gratefully, before remembering where they were heading and frowned. When they exited the colony complex, they were relieved to find it had stopped raining. It was still very windy, though. Hicks and Hudson guided him in and sat him down in one of the bench-like seats and tied his hands to one of the metal girders. Hicks and Hudson sat on either side of him. Matt couldn't help flinching when the door slammed shut. Hudson chuckled as Wierzbowski started up the engine.

"Don't sweat it, kid. We can handle it," said Hudson, confident they would kick the extraterrestrial backsides of whatever was lurking in the Processing Station. Matt simply looked at him before turning his head to look straight ahead at the opposite wall. The young colony engineer remained silent as they drove towards the Processing Station.

**Author's note:** I can hardly believe it's been two years since I published this. I wanted to come back to this, but life and other projects and stories took priority. I didn't want to leave this to languish, so I decided to redo it and get the next chapter up. I hope this makes up for it.


	2. Hive Mind

**Chapter Two: Hive Mind**

"_The perfect organism . . ."_

_-Ash_

The Marines were much more subdued during the ride to the atmosphere-processing station. Their initial high spirits had been dampened by the damage, bodies and devastation they had found in the complex. The high winds still whipped at the armored vehicle, but it was meant to withstand far stronger gales than what Acheron was throwing at it. Both Matt and Newt, the only known survivors thus far of the colony, were both silent for the whole ride. They hardly paid any attention to Newt, save Ripley. Matt, though, they kept a closer eye on.

The young engineer never moved from his place, sitting with his hands tied to the support beam behind his back. He never spoke, never adjusted his gaze. It was the classic "Thousand-Mile Stare". They had seen it before. Whatever the trauma they had witnessed, Matt was back in it, most likely, lost in his own mind. Not even when Hudson joked and gave him a shove did he respond. Somewhere in his mind, memory echoes and voices drifted, like ghosts:

* * *

><p>"<em>All right,according to the scans, everybody should be down here on the third Sub-Level. We go in, get everyone out, and get the hell out of Dodge," said a male voice.<em>

"_But who knows how many of those monsters are down there?" replied a female voice, trembling with fear._

"_Aw, don't be such a chicken, Mary," said another male voice._

"_Leave her alone, Tyler. She's as scared as the rest of us are," Matt's voice chided. Matt sighed softly, trying to keep his composure. "Okay, let's go. Everyone, follow me and Jed . . .," Matt's voice echoed among the mists of memory._

* * *

><p>Matt was brought back to the present by someone gently tugging on his jacket. He shook his head and looked around.<p>

"Matt?" asked Newt, her tone worried. Matt looked at Newt, blinking several times, as if he wasn't sure where he was.

"What is that?" asked Gorman from where he was sitting in his command chair. Matt looked up, barely able to see the monitors Gorman, Ripley and Burke were watching. Ripley softly shook her head.

"I don't know," she replied softly. Matt could just barely make out the shapes. He recognized the bizarre encrustation instantly. An epoxy-like resin that formed shapes that looked like the insides of some organ, or bone. Not a human organ, and not a human bone. His lips formed a tight line as he answered their question.

"They're entering the Hive." They all looked back at him. Gorman frowned at Matt, clearly not believing him. Matt fixed the Lieutenant with a firm look. "And there's pretty big bees inside." Gorman scoffed at this, turning back to the monitors. Ripley, though, kept her eyes on Matt. Reluctantly, she returned her attention to the screens. Her eyes darted to the schematic of the station, and the blinking points of the Marines as they progressed into the station. She frowned slightly.

"Lieutenant, what, exactly do those pulse-rifles fire?" she asked. Gorman didn't look away from the readouts as he replied.

"Ten millimeter explosive-tip caseless rounds. Standard issue. Why?"

"Then you've got a big problem," said Matt from where he sat. Gorman frowned as he looked at the young engineer. Matt didn't look at him as he continued. "Because if they fire those things off, they'll rupture the cooling system." Gorman growled softly at this. Burke sighed and rubbed his face with his hands.

"Whoa, whoa, he's absolutely right," said the Company rep, making Gorman even more irritable.

"So? So what? It'll cool everybody off down there. God knows it's hot enough," Gorman replied.

"You moron. This station is a giant fusion-reactor," said Matt, not at all angry, or even upset. Gorman stopped at that. Matt still looked at the far wall as he continued. "They rupture the cooling system, and fusion containment shuts down. That happens, and boom. And I'm not talking about a small one." Matt looked at Gorman, face stony and impassive. "Say, forty megatons." At this, Gorman paled. This finally made Gorman sit back and think. His choice was made easier by the fact he didn't have any ideas. Gorman huffed angrily as he tapped his headset.

"Apone," he started, getting the attention of the Marines, who all stopped. "Listen, we can't have any firing in there. I want you to collect magazines from everybody." Apone wasn't the only one who heard the order, the Marines eyed each other with a combination of disbelief and dismay

The response from Hudson was as quick as it was succinct:

"Is he fucking crazy?"

"What do you want us to use, man? Harsh language?" Wierzbowski asked.

"You have other weapons, so use them. Flame units only. I want rifles slung," Gorman's tone was no-nonsense. Apone sighed.

"All right, you heard the man. Come on, out with 'em!" ordered the Sergeant. One by one, the Marines unloaded their pulse-rifles, removing the charged magazines and handing them over to Apone with muttered curses. Vasquez handed over the power cell to her smartgun with great reluctance. Several of them carried flamethrowers, in addition to their rifles and handguns. These were brought up and readied. While no one was watching, Vasquez slipped a spare power cell from a pocket and clicked it into her smartgun. Drake did the same, the two exchanging a grim wink. Hicks reached back and opened the leather scabbard he carried on his back, removing a short, pump-action shotgun and chambered a round.

"I like to keep this handy. For close encounters," said Hicks as Apone stuffed the pulse-rifle magazines into a pouch that Frost carried.

"Hicks, cover our ass," Apone ordered from up front.

"My pleasure, Sarge," Hicks replied as he rested the shotgun against his shoulder.

Ripley divided her attention between the monitors, and Matt, who sat, staring at the far wall. She looked back and couldn't help a horrified gasp at what she saw through the helmet-cameras of the equally stunned Marines.

"They're entering the birthing chamber," said Matt. It wasn't a question, but a statement. One made by someone who'd seen it, firsthand.

The chamber was a vision of horror. They had found the missing colonists.

Everywhere they looked, faces stared back, locked eternally in masks of untold agony. Many bodies had been reduced to desiccated husks, covered by a thin parchment of what had once been skin. Others were bare bones, stripped of all flesh. One thing every corpse had in common was the ribs were broken outward, as if something had broken out from inside.

Ripley glanced at Matt, who was starting to tremble, despite his attempts to keep calm. Concern filled her. They weren't just nameless corpses to him. These were people. People he probably knew personally. People that had names, lives, families. It tugged at her when Newt gently patted Matt's trembling knee. Ripley closed her eyes and sighed before returning her gaze to the monitors.

Hudson was looking into an empty egg on the floor, the top open, like a flower, while Hicks was lifting what remained of a dead facehugger with the muzzle of his shotgun. There was a whole pile of them to one side. The Marines were silent as they moved through the chamber.

Ripley divided her attention between the monitors, and Matt, who was almost trembling as badly as he had back in the colony. She had no desire to look at the horrors of the Marines helmet-cameras any longer, and decided she would be better off trying to keep Matt from having a heart-attack.

"_Top!"_ yelled Dietrich. Ripley looked up as the Marines gathered on her. "Get over here, we've got a live one!" The medic's helmet camera displayed a woman with short, dark hair, cocooned into the walls of the chamber.

"Please . . . Kill me," the woman pleaded. Ripley noticed Matt had gone as still as a statue, back straight. Recognition was written across his face.

"Oh my god . . . Mary," he gasped. The cocooned woman, Mary, groaned as the Marines tried to pull at her bonds. The groan grew, and turned into a grating scream as she began to convulse. Matt's agony seemed to almost equal Mary's as he almost curled into a ball, trembling as tears ran down his face.

The Marines backed up as Mary's shirt stained with blood, bulging as the creature inside fought to escape. They were sprayed with blood as the shirt tore open, revealing the nightmare that had been growing inside her. The infant Alien hissed viciously at them.

"Jesus Christ!" Hudson screamed as he stumbled back and fell over a pipe.

"Flamethrower, move!" Apone ordered. The Marines unleashed a torrent of flaming death on the cocoon, engulfing the whole wall in flame. The Alien infant screeched loudly, the sound echoing everywhere in the Hive.

In the APC, Matt was trembling, curled into a ball, his breathing uneven.

"Forgive me. I'm so sorry . . .," he wasn't sobbing, but very close. Just barely holding on by a thread. Ripley gently knelt next to him, helping him to sit up.

"Take it easy. It's over," she soothed, trying to be as soothing as possible. His reply was a shuddering breath, his eyes screwed shut and refusing to open. She gently touched his hair. He didn't look up, but she could see the agonized look he bore. The look of guilt at someone he couldn't save.

Their attention was brought back to the monitors with the wild beeping of Hudson's motion tracker.

"Movement!" shouted the comm-tech. The Marines tensed.

"What's the position?" Apone asked sharply.

"Uh, can't tell," replied Hudson, clearly on edge.

"Talk to me, Hudson!" Apone replied sharply.

"I don't know! I got readings in front, _and_ behind!"

Something seemed to snap to attention in Matt's head. He looked up, as if startled out of a dream. He looked at Gorman, eyes wide.

"They woke up the Hive. Get them out of there!" the urgency clear in his voice. Gorman panted as he looked at the monitors, adjusting settings. Matt looked at Ripley. "Listen to me, they woke the Hive. If they don't get out now, they never will." Ripley frowned, seeing the truth in his eyes. She returned to the monitors.

"He's right, Gorman. He knows what he's talking about. Pull them out." The Lieutenant didn't reply as he frantically looked at all the monitors

"What's happening, Apone? Can't see a damn thing in here!" Gorman cursed. Ripley was panting as she watched.

"Pull them out, Gorman." Gorman ignored Ripley.

"Go to infrared, people!" Apone ordered. The Marines snapped down their infrared targeting lenses, trying to see through the steam and smoke. Matt growled as he watched Gorman.

"Listen to me! They woke the Hive! They're outnumbered twenty-to-one! If you don't get them out, they'll all end up like Mary! Get them out of there!" At Gorman's continued silence, Matt growled, grinding his teeth. _"Listen to me, you goddamned, hobnailed, green-necked jarheaded yutz!"_ Matt yelled. That finally provoked a reaction from the Lieutenant.

"Don't tell me what to do, you little puke punk!" Gorman snapped back.

That was when the defecation hit the oscillation.

Dietrich didn't see the Alien behind her, curled into its resting niche in the wall. She even ran her shoulder-light across it. It was so well-concealed, she never saw it, not even when it uncoiled behind her. It swiftly wrapped its powerful arms around her waist and arms. She screamed as her finger jerked the trigger of her flamethrower, sending a great jet of flame blew right between the surprised Marines, engulfing Frost and missing Hudson by inches. Frost gave a brief shriek, stumbling like a living torch before falling in a burning heap.

"Shit! The ammo!" Crowe managed to get out just a second before the pouch of ammunition exploded. Some Marines managed to dive for cover, but Crowe wasn't so lucky, the Private was killed instantly by the explosion. It quickly became pandemonium as Marines tried to find one another and fire at non-human movement with what weaponry they had.

"Jesus Christ, Apone! What the hell is going on down there?!" Gorman yelled, watching Frost and Crowe's lifesigns flatline.

With a grunt, Vasquez locked her smartgun into firing position.

"_Let's rock!"_ she yelled as she unleashed a volley of fire, lighting up the dim room with automatic fire, Drake doing likewise, the two expert smartgunners back-to-back as they laid down a base of fire.

"What the hell?! I ordered a hold on heavy fire! Hold your fire!" Gorman ordered. Vasquez and Drake ignored him as they fired at anything which didn't look like it was machinery.

"Hudson, duck!" Hicks yelled, quickly followed by the booming of a shotgun.

"Get them the hell out of there!" Matt yelled, stomping a booted foot on the floor of the APC. Gorman was panting, the situation was spiraling out of control. He tried to look everywhere at once, and get his brain to work all at the same time.

"Apone, I want you to lay down a suppressing fire with the incinerators and fall back by squads to the APC. Over."

"_Say again? All after 'incinerator',"_ Apone replied. Matt growled from his place, growing more and more angry with every passing second. Gorman repeated his order, but it didn't matter. The Marines had only time to react, not to listen to his order.

"We're gonna fuckin' die in here!" Hudson yelled.

"Retreat!" Apone yelled.

"Drake, to your left!" Hicks yelled. The smartgunner fired at something, an inhuman shriek following. The Marines desperately ran back through the Hive, ducking through the twisting tunnels as they fought to survive. There was a yell as something hoisted Wierzbowski into the air. The monitor briefly displayed the other Marines, down on the ground from where he was, up in the air, then it went blank.

"I told them to fall back. They must not have heard the order," Gorman's tone was distant, disbelieving. Ripley growled as she grabbed Gorman and shook him.

"They're cut off in there! Do something!" she yelled. He simply babbled. She felt something tap her leg. She looked back at Matt, his bi-colored eyes flashing as he stared at her.

"You know how to drive this thing?" he whispered, motioning to the cab with his head. She nodded as she strode for the cockpit of the APC. Matt looked at Newt. "Buckle up, Newt," Matt warned. She did, climbing onto a seat and closing the restraining harness. Ripley started the powerful engine, which finally jarred Gorman back to reality.

"Ripley, what the hell are you doing?!" he yelled as she hit the accelerator as hard as she could. The APC tore down the access ramp like a bat out of hell, the armored wheels almost spun on the damp pavement as it rocketed down into the complex.

"Turn us around!" Gorman ordered as he lunged, grabbing Ripley's arms.

"Get off her, fucker!" Matt yelled.

"Get off me, goddamn it!" she yelled, fighting to keep them from crashing and keep Gorman off her at the same time. Burke tried to pry Gorman off Ripley. Matt managed to get his legs around Gorman, his grip slipping and sending Gorman pitching forward, his head clanging loudly against one of the metal restraining harnesses, knocking him out.

"Oops," Matt said, a slight smirk coming to his lips. Ripely took a corner sharply, almost sending them into a wall. "Where the hell are you going?!" Matt yelled.

"How should I know?!" Ripley yelled back. Mat groaned as he fought his ties. He looked at Burke.

"You! Quit staring and cut me out of these fucking things!" Matt huffed. Burke brought out a small pocket knife and cut Matt's bonds. Matt rushed to the front. "Turn right up here!" he hissed. Ripley did as he said, just barely making the turn. She looked at him as he kept his eyes on the ramps and passages. "Shortcut. Turn left up here," he said, bracing himself as they made the turn.

"We're almost there!" yelled someone's voice over the headset. Matt grabbed it up.

"Who is this?" Matt asked, motioning for Ripley to turn right.

"Hicks. Who's this?" Matt shook his head.

"Look, I used to work in there, I know it like the back of my hand. I can get you out, but you gotta help me, here. Hicks, look around at the pipes, there should be letters and numbers somewhere. Goddammit, who the hell taught you to drive?!"

"What?" Hicks replied, not sure what the hell was going on in the APC.

"Just tell me!" Matt replied, trying to focus both on directing Ripley, and conversation. Not exactly easy.

"Uh, D-4467," Hicks replied over the sounds of gunfire and yelling. Matt sighed.

"Okay, you should be nearing a set of three large pipes, running floor-to-ceiling. When you get there, head _left_! Keep going until you see pipes with the letter "F" on them and wait there. And stay away from the walls!" Matt panted, trying to stay standing and direct Ripley and Hicks at the same time.

"Why? What're you going to do?" Hicks asked. Matt smiled thinly as he gripped Ripley's seat with a white-knuckled hand.

"Battering ram," he replied. Ripley took another corner, the APC speeding down the hallway of resin-covered pipes and machinery. Ahead, they could see the alien resin occasionally light up with the flashes from the Marines weapons, appearing as a translucent dome that pulsed from within.

"We're there!" said Apone yelled as there was more gunfire.

"Okay, watch it!" Matt warned as Ripley gunned it, everyone bracing for impact.

The APC smashed through the resin like a great slug from a giant cannon, sending fragments of resin and pipes crashing down everywhere. Ripley wrenched the wheel, pivoting the carrier to bring the door closest to the Marines. Matt rushed for the door, Burke helping as they flung the door open to the sound of gunfire and yelling. "Get your asses in here!" Matt hollered as loud as he could.

Hicks was helping Hudson to walk as they rushed for the APC, Vasquez and Drake laying down fire behind them, along with Apone. Hicks almost threw Hudson into the APC, lunging in a second after.

"Shit!" Drake yelled as his smartgun ran dry.

"Drake, drop the damn thing!" Apone ordered as he laid down a wall of flaming fuel to halt the Aliens that were chasing after them. Drake snapped the release buckles, and the gun, vest and cam sloughed off like an old skin. He brought up a flamethrower that had been strapped to his back and aided Apone in covering their escape. As Vasquez stumbled into the APC, she saw a tall, dark, inhuman shape lunge at Drake from behind. She pivoted and aimed.

"No!" Matt yelled, kicking the muzzle of her smartgun upwards as it fired. The Alien was caught in the head, not dead-center, but it was sufficient to end its life. Yellow blood sprayed, hitting Drake's arm and shoulder. The smartgunner shrieked in pain as he fell.

"Drake!" she yelled as Matt dashed out into the mayhem. The young engineer gritted his teeth as he slid his arms under Drake's shoulders and helped him to stand.

"Come on, think about the pain later!" Matt growled, helping him back towards the APC.

Apone glanced over his shoulder at the brave act. Vasquez was using what little ammo she had left to cover Matt and Drake, blowing apart the few Aliens that had crawled through holes in the machinery. Hicks and Hudson helped Drake into the APC as Vasquez' smartgun finally ran dry. Matt turned back as Apone emptied his flamethrower and ran for the APC. He never made it. Three Aliens dropped on him at the same time.

"Top!" Hicks yelled. They suddenly heard a loud, rapid beeping. Hicks knew what it was. "Grenade!" Hicks, Hudson and Matt shoved the door as hard as they could, not quite closing it before it went off. The boom was deafening. A few drops of acid flew through the gap and burned into the side of the APC interior. Matt looked at the front of the APC.

"Get us out of here!" Matt yelled. As Ripley put it in gear, they were startled when two clawed hands lunged inside, stopping the door and slowly forcing it back open. Hicks and Hudson lunged on the door, Matt grunting as they tried to shut it. They may as well have been trying to move an elephant with a feather. The door was slowly pushed open, despite the three humans trying to close it. The Alien forced its head through the gap, its dripping jaws parting, revealing the toothed mouth of its tongue. Hicks grunted as he tried to hold the door, Vasquez lunging to try to give extra strength. The Alien aimed its jaws at Hicks' helmeted head, tongue poised to strike, when someone grabbed its jaw, roughly pulling its face up. Matt glared at it as he held a lit flare.

"Eat this, motherfucker!" Matt growled as he shoved the flare straight into the Alien's open jaws. It shrieked as it released the door and stumbled back, allowing them to close the door.

"Punch it!" Hicks yelled. Ripley gunned it in reverse, making several of them fall over. Ripley crashed into a large conduit, wrenched the steering wheel, and hit the accelerator, freeing them and sending the APC back up the service ramps.

"Matt, get your ass up here!" she yelled. Matt stumbled over bodies and cases as he strode for the cockpit as fast as he was able. Once again, the Hadley's Hope engineer directed Ripley, telling her which ways were fastest.

They were almost there, when they heard a thump on the roof. Matt glanced up. In the next second, the windshield exploded in a shower of glass as an Alien tried to reach for Ripley. She grunted and hit the brakes, sending almost everyone careening down, and Matt almost ended up in her lap. The Alien was sent flying. She immediately hit the accelerator, gunning the engine. The Alien didn't even have time to get to its feet before it was crushed under the armored wheels with a shriek. Matt saw the closed service door and looked back at the others.

"Hold onto something!" he yelled. Ripley crashed through the doors in the next second, the APC hurtling across the landscape like a runaway comet.

A noise rather like bolts dropped in a blender was coming from the back of the APC, a harsh, metallic grinding. Matt groaned.

"Aw, fuck. What now?" he muttered. He looked out the destroyed windshield and pointed to a level area, free of rocks. "Take us over there and stop. They won't follow us this far out." Ripley complied, bringing the APC to a stop. Matt groaned as he looked back at everyone gathered in the APC.

Hudson was sitting in a seat, his helmet removed, shaking his head. Vasquez was tending to Drake with Burke's help and Gorman was laying sprawled on the floor where they had left him. Matt frowned as he looked around. "Where's Newt?" he felt a tug on his jacket. He looked down and saw Newt, squeezed between the driver's seat and the armored bulkhead. Matt gave a relieved smile and nodded to her. Matt took a deep breath. "Well, anybody got any more bright ideas?" Matt asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Matt groaned as he leaned against a wall. "Wish I had a smoke," he grumbled.

"Here," said Hicks, handing him a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Matt took them without question or hesitation, lighting one of the cancer-sticks and puffed a cloud of smoke. Matt gave a weary, yet relieved sigh as he sunk to the floor, back against the armored hull. The cigarette dangled lazily from his lips as he smoked, not seeming to take notice or mind of anyone or anything

"Sounded like the axle blew on this thing. Doubt we're gonna go much father in it," Matt stated, puffing smoke as he sat. Hicks sighed and nodded, hands on his hips.

"Yeah, sounded like the transaxle." Hicks looked down at Gorman. "What happened to him?" asked the Corporal. Matt allowed himself the tiniest of smiles at this.

"Didn't watch his head," Matt puffed out more smoke. Vasquez smiled faintly at this. Drake groaned as she bandaged his arms and shoulder.

"God damn things," Drake swore. The smartgunner looked at Matt as he sat, puffing smoke. "Hey, you." Matt tilted his head in Drake's direction. Drake managed a smile. "Thanks, man." Matt nodded softly, returning his attention to the roof of the APC as he smoked.

"Hey!" Hudson called out, gaining everyone's attention. Everyone looked at the operations bay, where Hudson was standing, looking at the monitors and screens. "Ski and Dietrich aren't dead!" Hicks rushed over and almost shoved Hudson out of the way. "Their signs are real low, but they're alive!" Vasquez stood up.

"Then we go back in there and get them! We don't leave our people behind!" she announced. Hudson gawked at her.

"Are you fucking nuts?! We barely got out, and you want to go back in?! You can count me out!" the comm-tech replied. This started a rather heated exchange.

"You can't help them!" Ripley yelled. They all looked at her. Matt puffed some smoke.

"She's right." Their attention shifted to him. "Right now, they're being cocooned, just like everyone else." They watched as Matt puffed some smoke. "The best we can do is hope they don't wake up." Hudson hung his head.

"Oh, dear god this ain't happening. Please tell me this isn't happening!" Hudson said as he rubbed his face with his hands. Drake groaned from where he sat on the floor.

"We should get the hell outta here, man," said the smartgunner. Hudson looked at him, pleased with the idea. Ripley sighed from where she sat.

"I say we take off and nuke the whole site from orbit," she put it. Everyone stopped and looked at her. Matt puffed some smoke, a mild smile adorning his face.

"Now there's a good idea," mused the young engineer, the cigarette bobbing as he spoke. Burke, having been silent the whole time, finally spoke up.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. This whole installation has a substantial value attached to it," said the Company rep. Ripley looked at him.

"They can bill me!" she shot back.

"Yeah, you can take it out of my paycheck," Drake grunted. The other Marines murmured their agreement. Burke rubbed his face with his hands.

"Okay, look, this is clearly an important species we're dealing with. We don't have the right to just wipe them out," Burke defended.

"You're wrong," Matt hissed from where he sat. They looked at him as his demeanor seemed to change. The haunted, terrified look seemed to return, albeit more subdued. "And the bugs aren't the only nasty thing crawling around here . . ." That last statement chilled the APC like an arctic wind. Everyone was silent. Ripley looked even more worried at this.

"What else is there?" Ripley asked. Matt sighed, blowing some smoke.

"Something even the bugs are terrified of," he replied, chilling her blood like ice. Ripley's eyes were wide. Newt looked up at Ripley from where she stood next to her.

"_The Thing . . ."_ whispered the girl, her voice laced with fear. The Marines looked both confused, and horrified.

"All the more reason to get the hell out of here," Hicks sighed, tapping his headset. "Ferro, do you copy?"

"_Standing by,"_ replied the dropship pilot.

"Prep for dust-off, we need immediate evacuation," Hicks ordered.

"_Roger, on our way,"_ Ferro answered. Hicks looked at Hudson and Vasquez.

"Let's get some flares and mark a landing zone," Hicks ordered. With the decision made, they gathered what they needed and all they could carry, given the fact the APC was a total write-off. As they opened the door, Matt stayed where he was, still staring into space. Ripley was about to speak, but Hicks put his hand on her shoulder. "Leave him for now. We'll get him when the dropship lands." She nodded, turning and leaving with the others.

Matt stayed where he was, simply sitting. With all the stress he'd been under, it was no small miracle his mind hadn't completely broken. The moments when he could simply relax without fear were few and far between. Although his exterior never changed, inside he fought to stay in the here and now, not letting the ghosts of Hadley's Hope come back to haunt him. He couldn't tell how much time had passed before he heard a voice over his headset.

"_Move it, Spunkmeyer!"_ said the female voice. There was a pause. _"Spunkmeyer!"_ she called again.

"_I heard the first time!" _snapped the male voice._ "Just let me zip up, for god's sake," _the man grumbled. Something about that seemed to kick off circuits in Matt's frazzled brain. Something was amiss. His mind labored to recall what had set off the mental warning. He suddenly sat uptight, spine rigid, eyes focused as he realized what was wrong. He bolted for the door of the APC, flinging it open as he frantically looked around. The Marines were standing around several flares that were burning red in the rain. Matt was panting as he heard the whine of an approaching engine.

"There's one of them on the ship!" he yelled. They all turned and looked at him, surprise written across their faces. There was a horrified yell over the radio.

"_Fuck! It's a monster!"_ Ferro yelled over the familiar screech of an Alien. Then, there was another sound, not one made by the Alien, or Ferro. It was a sound Matt recognized with dread. An eerie yowl that chilled his blood like ice. _"Oh my god! Spunkmeyer's-"_ Ferro screamed and was cut off. Matt heard the sound of metal crashing.

"Run!" Ripley yelled as she and the Marines dove for cover. Matt ran as fast as his legs could carry him, dashing for the rocks, diving at the last second as the flaming wreckage of the dropship flew past, crashing and scraping along the ground until it hit the side of the Processing Station, where it violently exploded. A few tense moments passed, nobody moving. Matt was the first to move, crawling to his knees as he surveyed the destruction.

The dropship was completely destroyed, as was the APC, which the dropship had hit as it dove out of the air. Matt gave a shuddering breath as a look of agony formed on his face.

"You're fucking _kidding_ me!" Hudson wailed. "We're really fucked now, man! _Now_ what're we supposed to do?! We're in some really pretty shit, now man!" Vasquez grabbed Hudson by his armor.

"Are you done?" she snarled. Hudson shoved away from her. Matt watched the fire of the dropship wreckage burn against the Processing Station, Newt standing next to him

"I guess this means we're not gonna be leaving now, are we?" she asked. Matt frowned.

"Don't worry, Newt. We'll think of something," he sighed, wanting to believe his own words.

"That's it! Game over, man! Game over! How could this fucking day get any worse?!" Hudson yelled. As if in answer, snow began to fall. Matt looked up at the falling snow and sighed.

"First goddamned week of winter," Matt muttered softly. Ripley approached as Matt lit a new cigarette. "We better get what stuff we can in. The winters around here aren't anything to joke about," said the engineer as he got to his feet.

"You said there was something else here. What is it?" she asked. Matt blew some smoke into the wind and snow as the others watched and listened.

"You'll find out soon enough . . ."


	3. Explaining Things

**Chapter Three: Explaining "Things"**

"_The scariest monster_

_Isn't the one you can't see._

_The scariest monster_

_Is the one that looks like you or me."_

_-Anonymous_

Matt sighed from where he stood by the entrance to the colony. After the crash of the dropship, the dejected group of survivors had salvaged what they could from the wreckage of the APC, which wasn't much. Matt looked up at the complex, that once had been called Hadley's Hope.

"'Hadley's Hell' is more like it," he mumbled to himself. He watched as Hicks, Hudson, Vasquez and Ripley carried what meager supplies they had scrounged from the APC wreck. Drake was just barely able to stand, but he helped as best he could, offering to carry medical kits and light items. Gorman was laying unconscious on a folding stretcher just inside the door, Burke keeping an eye on him. Matt pulled his jacket tighter as the snow began to fall in earnest, the white powder covering the ground. "Come on. Let's get inside," Matt muttered as they entered the colony and closed the doors. Matt looked around, eyes darting around, as if looking for something. He almost jumped when Ripley touched his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" she asked, concern filling her voice. Matt could only frown.

"Not exactly, but I'll manage," he replied. Matt walked over to where Gorman lay unconscious on the stretcher. Matt looked at Burke, who held one of the First Aid kits. "Here, help me with this," said Matt as he bent and grabbed one side of the stretcher. Burke nodded and grabbed the other side. The two were able to lift the unconscious Lieutenant and carry him through the wrecked corridors of the colony towards Operations. Newt was not far behind, carrying a box of flares under her arm. Ripley glanced back at Matt over her shoulder.

"What else is here?" she asked. Matt sighed as the others looked at him.

"Another kind of alien. Not like the bugs. This Thing is something else," he replied as he adjusted his grip on the stretcher. Before anyone could ask for further details, Bishop's voice came over their headsets.

"_Bishop here, I have some good news,"_ said the synthetic, sounding pleased. Hicks couldn't help a grin.

"Great. Could use some good news. What is it?" asked the Corporal.

"_I've found another survivor."_ Matt froze in place, forcing Burke to halt with him. When they looked, they were shocked at the change in Matt's appearance. His eyes were wide, the fear clearly written across his features. Newt looked the same.

"What is it?" Ripley asked. Matt was silent.

XXX

When they entered Operations, Bishop was there to greet them. He wasn't alone.

"Thank god you guys came!" said the other colonist from where he was standing near the window. He was a little taller than Matt was, his head was closely shaved, rather like the Marines. He wore glasses and a dirty, greasy jumpsuit. The man was clearly relieved to see the Marines. Matt, on the other hand, was silent as a grave, being careful not to be seen too soon as he entered the room behind Ripley and the others. Bishop smiled as he helped them set Gorman on top of a desk.

"He came into Operations a while ago. Said he heard someone, wanted to investigate," said Bishop. The colonist smiled as he moved forward to shake Hicks' hand. He stopped when he saw Matt.

The two colonists stared at each other for a long, silent moment.

"_Matt?_ Is that you? Where the hell have you been?! We thought we lost you!" the colonist seemed happy to see Matt. The reverse was most certainly not so. Matt's eyes were narrowed, clearly on edge and on guard.

"Where were you, John?" Matt asked pointedly. John stopped at that.

"What? What do you mean?" John replied, chuckling. Matt showed no emotion as he stood, eyes focused on John. Everyone else looked confused as they watched.

"When the lights went out in the Maintenance bay, where were you? You disappeared. Nobody could find you," Matt stated coldly. Hicks frowned as he looked between the two of them.

"Hey, what's going on?" Hicks asked. John's smile was gone, replaced by a stony, cold glare.

"Where were _you_? We couldn't find you, either. And where's Jed?" The two were silent as they stared each other down, the others looking on with confusion and worry.

"Matt, what's going on?" Ripley asked, worry clear in her voice. Matt's eyes never left John as he replied.

"The other creature running around here . . . It's worse than the bugs, because it can copy any living thing it absorbs. Even humans," Matt replied, glaring at John. They all stared at Matt, thunderstruck. John's gaze never left Matt.

"What do you mean? Do you mean . . . he could be one of _'em_?!" Hudson yelled, looking at John with a growing horror.

"So how do we know _you're_ human? Has anybody been alone around him?" John asked, tension and anger in his voice, glowering at Matt. Matt returned the glare.

"Right back at you." The whole room was tense. Hicks gently waved his hands.

"Everybody take it easy!" Hicks tried to defuse the situation that was rapidly becoming a standoff. As Hicks moved forward, Matt growled.

"_Don't_ step in front of him," Matt snarled, startling them. John gave a thin smile as he pointed at Matt.

"What have you got to hide? What're you afraid of?" John asked. Matt's face twisted into a mask of anger.

"Of being turned into a monster like you!" he swiftly shot back. This sparked a massive argument, everyone yelling. As it was, nobody heard the sound like a match being struck. Suddenly Newt lunged out of where she had been hiding, her doll clutched in one hand, a lit flare in the other. With a grunt, she shoved the flare into one of the large pockets of John's jumpsuit.

"Newt! What're you _doing_?!" Ripley yelled. John screamed as his greasy clothes quickly caught on fire.

"Somebody get a fire extinguisher!" Hicks yelled. John's scream rose in pitch as he stumbled, ripping at the flaming clothing. Hicks had just snatched a fire extinguisher, when John's scream changed to a shrill squealing. Everyone looked, and their eyes grew wide in horror.

John's body split open from the top of his head down to his belt, the inside a massive maw of sharp teeth, tentacles flailing like tongues. His arms split down his hands to his elbows, the fingers becoming long, thin and twisted, the nails long talons. His shoulders opened, revealing horrible, inhuman eyes.

"_Madre de Dios!"_ Vasquez swore as she brought up her pulse-rifle.

"Shoot it!" Hicks yelled as the Thing howled in anger. Matt threw himself backwards, trying to get as far away from it as possible as it lunged forward.

"No! Burn it! You gotta burn it!" Matt yelled as the shells tore through it, doing little more than slowing it down, as fact he was grateful for, as it was coming after _him._

"Jesus, what is that thing?!" Hudson yelled as he fired. Ripley grabbed Newt and tried to get to Matt, but she didn't dare get closer. Matt jumped up on a desk and leaped halfway across the room, just barely getting out of the way as the Thing lunged, howling.

"Burn it! Burn the fucker!" Matt yelled.

"Flamethrower! Move!" Hicks yelled, grabbing one of the weapons. Hicks managed to get a short burst of flame out before the flamethrower sputtered and died. "Damn it!" he swore as he checked it. The burst of flame was enough to catch the Thing on fire, the monstrous beast flailing as it screeched. Matt took the brief opening to dash forward and grab up his makeshift flamethrower, sitting on a desk. He whirled and let loose a torrent of flaming death as the Thing yowled. It stumbled and fell. Matt glared as he aimed and burned it, the whole room lit bright-orange by the fire. Ripley shivered as she watched, holding Newt tightly against her as the eerie yowling of the Thing filled Operations.

XXX

Everyone was gathered around the examination table in the lab as Bishop carefully examined the burned corpse of the Thing.

"Fascinating. I've never seen anything like it," he stated, clearly interested.

"Nobody has," said Hicks, hands on his hips. The others were gathered, watching, but, at Matt's insistence, nobody came anywhere near it, other than Bishop. The android took a thin slice of tissue and placed it under a microscope, adjusting the dials to focus. Ripley was fighting to keep from throwing up. The stench was awful.

"Hmm," said Bishop as he looked. "Doesn't look like any cellular structure I've ever seen. If I didn't know better, I'd say I was looking at some sort of-"

"Virus?" Matt interjected. They all looked at Matt, who was on his fifth cigarette. "That's what it is, according to Adam." Burke nodded at this.

"Adam Danvers, D.M.D. He was the head doctor here," clarified the Company rep. Matt blew some smoke as he stood, back against the wall, his homemade flamethrower clutched firmly in his hand. Bishop turned and looked at the burned corpse on the table.

"It's also very hardy. There's still cellular activity in these remains," said Bishop. At this, Hudson and Burke backed even further away.

"Yeah, these Things aren't easy to kill. You have to really burn them to ash, which is why we made a batch of thermite and other stuff to burn them with," said Matt, puffing more smoke. They looked at him.

"Thermite? That hall, up on the second level," said Hudson, remembering the destroyed hall. Matt nodded.

"That was Max and Sam. They went to get supplies. We never knew what really happened, but you saw the result." Matt took another drag of his cigarette. "They were probably ambushed, and went out with a bang," he finished.

Burke looked at the misshapen, distorted corpse with fascination.

"This is really something. First the other ones, now _this_," he said to himself. Hicks rubbed his neck.

"Speaking of supplies, we should check on ours, see what all we got out of the APC," Hicks suggested. This was met with murmurs of agreement.

"I'll stay here. Keep an eye on Gorman, continue my analysis. Maybe I'll find something helpful out," said Bishop. Matt nodded his agreement, his mind elsewhere.

XXX

Looking at the meager supplies on the table, Hicks wished he could triple it just by looking at it.

"All right, this is absolutely everything we could salvage out of the APC wreckage. We got four pulse-rifles with about fifty rounds each. Not so good. About fifteen M-40 grenades, eight U-4 firebombs, and three flamethrowers. Two half-full, and one damaged," said the Corporal, listing all they had been able to get. Matt stood with his arms crossed, watching and listening.

"You can rule out everything but the flame weapons. Bullets just piss this Thing off, and the _last_ thing you want to do is blow it to pieces," said the engineer as he surveyed their weapons cache. Vasquez looked at him.

"Why? Wouldn't that be easier?" she asked. Matt looked at her.

"You blow a Thing up, the pieces will get up and start moving around," he shot back. Ripley looked sick at the thought. Drake huffed from where he sat in a chair.

"This Thing's a damn nightmare," he muttered. Matt frowned as he looked at the armament, glancing up at Hicks.

"You've got a shotgun, right?" Matt asked. Hicks pulled out the weapon from the scabbard on his back. Matt nodded. "A couple people had shotguns here. There's probably still some ammo laying around. Won't kill it, but it'll damn sure slow it down. I'm pretty sure I can refill the flamethrowers. It'd have to be with kerosene, but it'll work." This brought more than a few relieved smiles. Matt picked up the damaged flamethrower, the one Drake had been carrying. It was pitted by acid in some places and there was a few holes, but he nodded. "I can fix this, no problem." Vasquez smiled at this, as did Drake.

"Right on, man," said the male smartgunner, grinning. Matt didn't smile, nor did he frown. He walked over and grabbed his pipe-bombs and spare fuel tanks he'd been carrying when they first met.

"These aren't regular pipe-bombs," he said as he laid them out. "These are filled with thermite, white phosphorus and magnesium. They'll really _burn,_" he said as they looked at the homemade, but powerful weapons. Ripley looked at Matt, reminded of Parker and Brett, so long ago.

"Is there any way to tell who's infected?" Ripley asked. Matt puffed some smoke as he set the flamethrower back down. Everyone was watching and listening.

"Yeah, but not pleasant ones," Matt began, puffing some smoke. "You could tie 'em to a chair and gas 'em. If they're a Thing, you'll know really quick. If they're human, though . . .?" he let that hang. Hicks sighed from where he sat in a chair.

"This Thing's pretty smart," mused the Corporal. Matt nodded. Ripley looked at Matt.

"What about a blood test of some kind?" she asked. Matt frowned.

"I'm just an engineer, and only a Class-4. The doctors and the scientists were the ones that knew that, and they're all dead," Matt sighed, walking over and sitting on a console.

"I'm afraid that might be more difficult than it sounds," said Bishop, startling them. Bishop gave a soft, wry smile of apology for startling them. "I just checked the blood supplies, and it seems someone had the same thought, and sabotaged the frozen blood. Somebody didn't want that test." They all looked at Matt as he sat, smoking like a chimney.

"I wasn't in that group, but I heard a lot of people yelling about an 'accident' in Med-lab." He looked at them. "The Thing isn't some dumb animal in a human form, it assimilates intelligence, too. That's what makes it so dangerous," he sighed as he put out his cigarette. Bishop nodded.

"If I could get into the research files of the colony, I might be able to provide more answers or a solution," said Bishop. Matt chuckled from where he sat.

"Try 'Claudia974'," he suggested. Hudson sat in the chair and typed in the code. They all watched as the screen loaded, a bright, cheerful green:

**Password accepted**

They all stared, surprised. Hudson looked at the young engineer.

"How'd you do that, man?" Matt gave a soft chuckle.

"It was Dave's favorite password. And Playmate," Matt said as he stood to the side. Hudson was able to smirk at that.

"Good going, man." Hudson sounded impressed. Bishop looked over Hudson's shoulder as the comm-tech accessed the colony files.

"This is good. It looks like the files are uncorrupted. I should be able to access all their files and research," said Bishop as Hudson let him sit. Matt came forward and frowned.

"Gimme a look at camera 176," Matt asked. Bishop typed, and the screen displayed a long, narrow tunnel. At the end was a large lump of the resin they had seen in the Alien Hive. It completely blocked the end of the tunnel.

"What the heck is that?" Hudson asked. Matt sighed softly.

"The service tunnel to the Processing Station," Matt stated. They looked at him. "For a while, the bugs were using it to move from there to here. When the Thing popped up, though, they sealed it off." This got their attention. Ripley turned and looked at Matt.

"So, they're afraid of it?" Ripley asked, sounding curious. Matt nodded softly.

"Yeah. That's how we were able to figure out when the Thing was in a group. If the bugs didn't attack, or ran, somebody wasn't human." They all watched Matt as he spoke. Hicks looked thoughtful.

"Maybe we could use that? Find out who's the Thing," Hicks ventured. Matt raised an eyebrow.

"You really wanna go back there?" he asked. Hicks nodded his agreement with Matt.

Hudson frowned as Bishop checked the security cameras.

"What the _hell?_" the comm-tech breathed. They all looked, catching just a brief glimpse of something disappearing around a corner.

Something big.

Matt frowned at the brief glimpse of something twisted and distorted. Bishop frowned as he typed, trying to switch cameras. The other camera in the area displayed only a screen of static. Hudson glanced at Matt, who wore a troubled expression. "What the hell was that?"

"That would be the _Big_ Thing," Matt replied. Everyone stared at him.

"How big?" Ripley asked, her voice shaky. Matt lit another cigarette.

"Well, if everyone who disappeared was assimilated, and the Things all merged into one," Matt paused, thinking on it. "Its biomass would be equal to about thirty people." Bishop was the only one who didn't look frightened.

"It can merge together?" the android asked, sounding intrigued. Matt puffed some smoke.

"Oh, yeah. Saw more than a couple fuse together from pieces," replied Matt. Drake groaned from where he leaned against a console.

"So, where'd this Thing come from, man?" Drake asked. The others looked at Matt.

"My Mommy and Daddy found it," said Newt. They all looked at her, stunned.

XXX

In the Med-lab, they were all gathered around one of the small metal tables. On the table was a strange metal capsule of some sort. It was about the length of a person's thigh, relatively smooth, except for the ends, which looked like they had been plugged into something. The capsule was open, split open and forming a "Y".

"When they brought poor Russ Jorden back with one of the bugs on him, they had that with them. They found it inside that ship. Since they were more worried about Russ, they just left it in here. The next time somebody checked, it was open and empty," said Matt as Bishop examined the capsule.

"Hmm, never seen a material like this before. I can't tell if it's metal, or something else," said Bishop. Ripley wore a deep frown as she looked. She'd only seen brief, shaky images, but she recognized the styling of the capsule as the same as that of the derelict ship. She looked at Bishop as he looked inside the capsule.

"Bishop, is it possible that this Thing is the Aliens' natural predator?" she asked. Bishop looked at her.

"It's certainly possible," he replied.

There had been a time when Ripley couldn't have imagined anything worse than those black monstrosities that haunted her nightmares. Now, though, she knew there were far greater horrors, lurking in the darkest places in the universe, where stars do not dare to shine.

**Author's note:** It may have taken two years, but I finally got the third chapter up. More than anything, I wanted to do this to show myself, and my readers that romance isn't the only thing I can write. Happy Halloween . . .


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